Trifling Inconveniences
by Whispi
Summary: "The Doctor cursed to himself shakily, blowing out a long deep breath. Would he live out the rest of his existence tortured by nightmares and unable to get a decent night's rest?" The Metacrisis Doctor finds himself nightmare-stricken and Rose comes to comfort him. Saccharine fluff. Reviews would be lovely.


The Doctor did not sleep his first night in the parallel universe, nor the second, nor the third. He hadn't slept much when he was fully Time Lord, especially recently. His dreams had never been pleasant-or rather, when they were they involved the return of Rose or Gallifrey, and then it was the waking up that hurt. At any rate, he hated to sleep and avoided it at all costs.

Turned out, though, that going without sleep as a human was harder than it had been as a Time Lord. On the day after his third sleepless night, even five cups of coffee couldn't make him function as normal. It was lucky that it was a Saturday and he wouldn't start work at Torchwood until Monday.

He told Rose that he just wanted to relax, and she nodded, but a few moments later he caught her looking at him with narrowed eyes. Nevertheless, Rose was a bit tired herself, so they sat on the couch together and made good use of Rose's Netflix. Mostly they watched clever action and spy films, which the Doctor preferred, but Rose did insist on watching _The Decoy Bride_ because she thought the the Doctor looked like the male lead. The Doctor didn't see it.

Over the course of the day they slid closer and closer together on the couch. By the end of the last movie they were pressed close and their hands were intertwined. Rose's head was resting on the Doctor's shoulder.

As the credits rolled, the Doctor suppressed a huge yawn. The clock over the TV said 8:30 PM. When could he respectably go to bed?

Rose saved him. "Doctor," she said, "I'm knackered, so I'm off to sleep. Sorry, but I'm dead on my feet."

The Doctor nodded. "Right." Exhaustion had hit him like a ton of bricks. He couldn't think, and the room spun a bit. " 'Night, then."

"You gonna be okay?"

The Doctor barely heard her. He nodded automatically and headed straight for his room in Rose's flat. He didn't even take off his shirt: he merely loosened his tie and collapsed into his unmade bed. He couldn't keep his eyes open, and within minutes he was asleep.

* * *

He awoke in a cold sweat, and his chest was heaving. The sheets were twisted and the coverlet was thrown off the bed completely. He didn't remember what he had dreamed about, and he didn't like to think about it. Turning over onto his stomach, he clutched at the sheets and kept his eyes screwed tightly shut.

The Doctor cursed to himself shakily, blowing out a long deep breath. Would he live out the rest of his existence tortured by nightmares and unable to get a decent night's rest?

He heard neither his door open nor the soft pad of footfalls across the thickly carpeted floor, so he jumped when a hand touched his shoulder lightly.

"Doctor, it's me."

There wasn't another voice he'd have liked to hear more. "Rose," he murmured into the pillow. "Hello."

"Hello," she said back, and he could tell she was smiling. "You alright? You seemed a bit off today, and well..."

"What?"

"You didn't exactly sound like you were getting much sleep in."

So he had screamed. Or something. Made noise, anyway. "No."

He felt the mattress sink down beside him, and he scooted over to allow Rose more room. She began playing with his hair, and he sighed heavily into the pillow. It felt nice.

Suddenly something occurred to him. "Rose," he said, "how come you're still awake. You said you'd go to bed."

"Doctor," she said, and he could picture her little grin, "I know when you can't _bear _to surrender your man-card and go to bed first."

He smiled into the pillow, and bit by bit the tension eased out of his muscles. Rose's hand in his hair felt simply marvelous, and he was _so tired..._

But he just couldn't fall asleep. Every time he began to drift off, he was yanked into consciousness again. Frustration made his teeth clench, and he screwed his eyes shut tight.

"Doctor," Rose said after a while, "you're not asleep, are you?"

"No," he muttered into the pillow. "I - I can't, Rose."

"Why not?"

"I just...can't."

Rose was silent for a while. Finally she pointed out, "Well, you'll never sleep with your face glued to the pillow."

Reluctantly the Doctor turned over to face her. She was smiling softly and he suddenly felt very young and small. Odd feeling for a 900 year-old.

"That's right," Rose said. "D'you want me to stay?"

The Doctor swallowed and nodded. Her eyes were such a lovely hazel color, he thought as he stared into them. Rose scooted down so she was lying, not sitting, on the bed. She reached over and took his hand, twining her fingers through his. It was their _thing_, after all.

His thoughts were of Rose and her tongue-touched smile as he finally, _finally _drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When he awoke, his forehead was pressed into Rose's shoulder. They were a tangle of limbs, and he could feel her arms wrapped around his torso. Her cheek rested against the top of his head, and her breath was ruffling his hair. He was so warm, and comfortable, and...

Not tired. He'd slept. He couldn't contain a grin, even though he knew no one could see it. Things always looked better in the morning. Well, no. More like things always looked better when he awoke in Rose's arms in the morning.

He tried to snuggle further into her embrace, but unfortunately the motion made her shift and wake up. She yawned loudly.

"Mornin', Doctor," she muttered, pressing glorious little kisses on his head. "Did you sleep well."

"Fantastic, Rose, and you?"

"Oh, you sound chipper," she said back, and he could tell she was smiling. "I had a lovely night's sleep. Well, I had my favorite Human-Time Lord Biological Metacrisis in my arms, didn't I? Oh, you're giggling."

"I am _not_," the Doctor protested, even though he really was.

"You are so," Rose kept arguing, "and it's adorable."

"Oh, then, yes, I suppose I am, then," the Doctor corrected quickly, and Rose burst out laughing.

"I think we can make this a. . .permanent arrangement, don't you think?" Rose said, turning her head so their noses were almost touching.

"Rose Tyler," the Doctor replied, savoring the words, "you are absolutely brilliant, and that is a wonderful idea."

All the inconveniences that came with being half-human-the necessity of sleep and the nightmares and the parking tickets-were mere trifles, because now he could wake up in the morning with Rose, and he could tell her what she'd always known but had never heard him say.

He leaned in close to whisper the words to her.

"And I love you."

* * *

**Thanks for giving this a read! I'd love a review if you feel so inclined. **

**Whispi**


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